


Homemade Dynamite

by herinterface



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 08:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15968408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herinterface/pseuds/herinterface
Summary: Oh, shit.Simon’s new roommate is hot.





	Homemade Dynamite

**Author's Note:**

> i started this many many months ago and never finished it and never will but i just found it and liked some of it so i’m posting it as is. i don’t even know if people still check this tag. i don’t write scenes in order so there’s some shit missing in between. imagine any happy ending you want. enjoy!
> 
> p.s. my process for naming this was “i’m gonna shuffle my music and name it after the first song i get”. that song was homemade dynamite by lorde which is perfect. stream melodrama for clear skin

Oh, shit.

Simon’s new roommate is hot.

He’s so excited to be going to a university out-of-state, especially since he got enough in scholarships and financial aid that he’ll only have to kill himself at a part-time job for a little while. But more than that, he’s excited to be in a new environment. He’s excited for independence, freedom, the ability to pick his own schedule and only interact with people he wants to interact with. And hopefully, the ability to be out and proud, maybe join an LGBT club or take a class. Maybe go to a _gay bar_. Why the hell not? He can be whoever he wants to be. He’s fucking ecstatic.

Leah and Abby are here with him, and they’re pretty pumped too. They got the option to room together, so Simon is pretty much never going near their room without a half an hour warning in advance. They’re going to turn that shit into a sex dungeon, and Simon isn’t here for it.

Simon would have roomed with Nick, but Nick had to stay in-state because he couldn’t afford the out-of-state tuition. He tried to play it off like it was fine, but all four of them were pretty upset for the rest of senior year. Nick saw them off with promises to stay in touch and an only half-serious threat to come visit him, “or else.”

So, here Simon is, having to room with a stranger. The dorms are separated by gender, as heteronormative as that is, so there was a good chance he would be roomed with an annoying straight guy. There was also a good chance he would be roomed with an absolutely gorgeous (straight) guy, which... Shit.

He had exchanged some emails with the guy over the summer, getting to know him beforehand so he could make sure they could at least tolerate each other. If not, they could switch roommates before classes started and that would be that. But the opposite happened. The guy seems really damn nice. He doesn’t know much about him: just that his name is Bram (short for Abraham), he‘s 18, he’s Jewish, he’s doing a double major in English and Education (he’s thinking he wants to be an English teacher), and he plays soccer. After the basic details were exchanged, their emails mostly became lighthearted banter. They became fast friends. But, Simon remembers, they never exchanged photos or social media, so Simon had no idea what he looked like. Until now. Really, he should have insisted on getting the guy’s Instagram so he would’ve had time to prepare for this.

What Bram didn’t mention over email is that he’s stupidly attractive. When Simon walks into their room on move-in day, sweaty and frazzled, juggling his bags, he stops in his tracks.

His roommate beat him there, and is unpacking a bag on top of one of the beds. He’s wearing just a hoodie with their university advertised on it, and some loose shorts, the kind you would wear to the gym. Nothing too crazy. But the shorts leave his legs on full display— muscled and strong-looking, like he could choke a man with them. And his ankles... God, Simon didn’t even think he could find ankles attractive until just now. Definitive proof that Bram wasn’t lying about being a soccer player, he’ll tell you that. Simon makes himself stop ogling and look him in the eyes, and that’s where the real trouble starts. His hair is in tight braids, and he’s smiling like he’s genuinely excited to see Simon. He turns away from unpacking.

Simon forces himself out of his stupor and walks up to Bram with his hand out. “Hey, it’s great to meet you,” he says, shaking his hand. “I’m Simon.”

“Nice to meet you too, Simon,” Bram says, smiling. His smile is so pretty. Goddamn it.

This is why being gay is problematic. There was a pretty fair chance he would get roomed with an attractive guy, and now he has to deal with seeing this guy every day— sleepy when he’s just woken up, happy when he’s passed an exam, maybe a little naked when he’s just come back from the shower... Simon is doomed.

Bram looks back at the bed, the left one from where Simon’s facing. “Sorry, I, uh... Kind of just dictated which one was gonna be mine. I can move over to the other one, if you want.”

He’s so sweet. Simon is going to die. “No, that’s fine! That’s totally fine,” he says, emphasizing the point by throwing his own bag on top of the other bed. But he’s tired, so he doesn’t start unpacking. He just lounges on his bed and watches Bram unpack, which is probably a little weird, but.

Bram notices after a minute the distinct lack of sound coming from Simon’s side of the room. “Not up for unpacking now?”

“Nah,” Simon says, folding his arms behind his head.

Bram laughs, and Simon decides he needs to become very funny very quickly so he can make him replicate that sound every chance he gets. Maybe he should major in Clownery. “How was your flight here?” Bram asks.

“Eh. It was a flight,” Simon says. It was actually kind of unbearable. Some snot-nosed kid kicked his chair the whole time, his ears felt blocked and he had to keep yawning, he had forgotten to download a new album to his phone that he really wanted to listen to, and he was in the middle seat. But Simon knows he has a tendency to overshare a lot of details— some call it rambling— so he holds off so as to not scare Bram away so soon.

“I hear that,” Bram says. “I hate flying.” And they’ve kind of forced themselves into a conversational corner with that. Simon’s always hated small talk. He’d love to just skip ahead to the part in his and Bram’s acquaintanceship where they don’t feel the need to fill in the empty space with conversation. Where they can just be content in silence. Social rules don’t seem to agree with what Simon thinks.

But Bram doesn’t even try to awkwardly revive the conversation. He just keeps unpacking, and that’s that. Huh.

For the next hour, Simon juggles between looking through social media on his phone and talking to Bram whenever a conversation topic naturally comes up. After that, when he gets bored and nothing seems to be happening on Twitter, he decides to finally get up and start unpacking.

Classes don’t start until next week, giving them time to settle in. Or, in Simon’s case, decorate his side of the room to his liking. Making it feel more like home will curb some of the homesickness, he assumes.

That’s the one thing he’s excited for in this entire arduous process. Anyone who’s ever been in Simon’s bedroom can tell you just how much life there is in it— how much of his personality is reflected on the walls and in the various trinkets he keeps around his desk. It brings him so much joy to personalize things, to make them his own. He starts hanging up pictures of himself with his friends and family, him at shows, him at parties. He carefully keeps the rainbow flag he brought tucked away in his bag. He’ll hang that up if and when he comes out to Bram and finds that he’s cool with it. Or else he’ll hang it up when he comes out to Bram and finds that he’s not cool with it, and then gets a new roommate who lives in the 21st century.

When he’s nearly done, he gets a text from Leah (and by extension, Abby) demanding to meet up and stake out the local coffee place to see if it’s to their liking. He says a quick goodbye to Bram and goes to meet them.

 

He ends up hanging out with Leah and Abby so much that he rarely sees Bram other than a passing hello or good night when they both still happen to be in the same room when one of them wakes up or goes to sleep. He notices that Bram wakes up early, and usually is gone by the time Simon wakes up. Like a nerd. A nerd that Simon wants to get to know more, but doesn’t know where to start.

It isn’t until the first week of classes that something comes up. It’s Thursday, and Simon comes back from his 1:00 class with a head swirling with syllabus information and professor names that he’s already mostly forgotten. He drops his backpack by the door and then notices Bram just standing next to Simon’s bed, looking at his wall of pictures.

“Hey,” Simon calls out, because Bram looks very thoughtful.

“Hey,” he turns his head and says, before turning right back.

“See anything interesting?” Simon jokes, standing next to him.

“I know her.” Bram points to a picture of Simon with Abby. The one of them backstage just before their last performance of Cabaret, arms around each other and smiling big. They had just made up a couple days prior, and they had missed each other too much. “She’s in my Lit class, I think. I usually don’t have such a knack for faces, but she... She was quite talkative.”

“Oh, that’s Abby. Yeah, she draws attention to herself,” Simon says, smiling. a little. “She’s great, I love her.”

“She’s your girlfriend?” Bram asks, looking back at him, with nothing but innocence and curiosity.

“Oh! No, no.” He almost says, “ _I’m gay_ ,” but stops himself at the last second. It’s gotten so much easier to just roll the words off his tongue in the last few months, but he’s realizes that he’s in a totally new environment with a totally new group of people, and that he shouldn’t make any assumptions about just how cool people will be even if this is a liberal arts school and Bram seems nice. That’s the exact reason he doesn’t want to ruin this, actually. Maybe it’s dishonest, maybe an argument could be made about deception and manipulation, but sue him. He’s met a nice guy, and he wants to stay in his fantasy bubble for a little while longer before he has to find a new roommate when this one inevitably turns out to not be perfect.

He’s about to smooth over it by saying Abby’s gay instead, but he doesn’t have the right to out her to a stranger like that. He knows she’s very open, like maybe a little too much, telling just about anyone who breathes near her that she’s a huge lesbian with a beautiful girlfriend, but that’s still her decision to make. Simon knows all too much about how it feels to have that decision ripped from you.

So, he says neither, and just ends the sentence there very awkwardly. Bram doesn’t say anything, so he tries to tip toe over the prolonged pause where words were obviously supposed to go. “She’s one of my best friends. We were in theater together, obviously.” He points to the picture of them in full costume and stage makeup. “She and my other best friend, Leah, are here with me. My third best friend— stay with me here— Nick, unfortunately stayed back home, but he’s with us in spirit.”

Bram laughs. “Three best friends. You hit the jackpot.”

Simon smiles, looking back at all the pictures, the memories he’s made. “Yep. What about you? You’ve been gone all the time, I’m sure you haven’t been at the library all week. Unless that’s your thing.” He bumps his shoulder into Bram’s, lightly.

“Maybe it is,” Bram says, bumping back and smiling. Hmm. “Yeah, my best friend Garrett. We met freshman year, at JV soccer tryouts. I don’t know if you could tell, but I kind of keep to myself.” He winks at Simon when he says this, which is almost offensively hot. Simon keeps it together. “Garrett just kind of shoved his way into my life and stayed there. He’s great.”

“Why didn’t you room with him?”

“Tired of me already, Simon?” Bram asks jokingly. And he needs to stop being so charming before Simon does something stupid like fall in love with him. “He scored a single dorm for himself somehow and I didn’t want to infringe on that. It’ll make for some sweet parties once Garrett befriends half the student body, which he tends to do.”

“Nice,” Simon says. “And you’re gonna try to join the soccer team here?”

“That’s the plan,” Bram says, shuffling his feet, like he’s really just that humble. Man, this guy is cute. “Do you play a sport?”

“Nah, that’s not really my area.” An understatement. Simon’s heart starts beating fast whenever he encounters a staircase with more than five steps. “I might try to join some clubs and organizations and shit. Extracurriculars make for a more well-rounded student, and all that.”

“Yep. Hey, do you think they emphasized that enough at orientation?” Bram asks sarcastically.

“Nah, I think they could have repeated it another dozen times,” Simon jokes back.

Bram laughs, and then just stays there, looking at Simon with a smile. The moment runs just a bit too long and ends the second before it can become awkward. “Hey, you know, maybe we can all arrange a hangout together. Your best friends, my best friend, maybe celebrate the end of our first week? Garrett can provide the space.”

Simon is almost taken aback by the forwardness. Or maybe it’s just normal bro behavior. He’s always been too nervous to ever make the first move in new friendships. It’s always been other people. Leah, Nick, and later, Abby, always were the ones to suggest hanging out first, to mold the friendships when they were in their early stages. Maybe he’s just always been too afraid of rejection, at least until he gets to know somebody first. He’s glad Bram has taken up that role, saving Simon from his own cowardice again.

“Sounds great. I’ll ask them.” He smiles at Bram.

“And I’ll ask Garrett, since I kind of just volunteered his room like that without checking in. He loves to meet new people, though, so he’ll be all for it.”

Simon laughs and pulls out his phone, sitting down on his bed to text the girls. Bram goes over to his own bed and does the same. Leah and Abby don’t need much convincing, just a mention that Bram is very attractive does the trick. They’re obsessed with finding Simon “true love”. He’ll just break the sad, heterosexual news to them later.

 

“Hi!” Abby greets at Garrett’s door, with completely real cheer. She’s kind of just always excited. “I’m Abby, and this is my girlfriend Leah.” She points to Leah, who waves kindly.

“Girlfriend, like romantic?” Garrett asks neutrally, stepping back from the doorway.

“Yep!” Abby says, and pulls Leah further into the room.

“Cool. I’m Garrett,” he says, with no further gross comment or suggestive look. Well, that’s a relief.

Simon shuffles in behind them, with a quick, “Simon.”

“What’s up, man?” Garrett comes in for a bro half-hug, which he thankfully has down pat thanks to being Nick Eisner’s best friend for years.

“Hey, Simon,” Bram greets from his seat on a beanbag chair, holding a red solo cup.

“You got beer in here?” Simon questions after Garrett has closed the door.

“Hope you won’t tell on me,” Bram says, with a lazy half smile, moving the cup around in circles. God, he’s hot.

“Not as long as you share,” Simon shoots back. Why the hell did he say that? Beer is disgusting. Now he can’t take it back. Well, he’ll have to get some practice pretending to be the cool college guy who drinks beer at parties.

Garrett pulls out a can from some hiding spot, opens it, pours half of it into a cup, and hands it to Simon. He thanks him and chokes down a sip and tries not to gag. He ignores Leah and Abby who are definitely giving him knowing looks right now.

“So,” Garrett says, taking the lead. Simon notes that he seems like the kind of guy to always take the lead in social situations. He seems nice. “How’s everyone’s first week?”

They all trade easy conversation about their classes, professors, and other random and/or funny anecdotes. Garrett and Abby talk the most, no surprise there, while Simon and Bram just nurse their own drinks and Leah nods along intently from where she’s plastered to Abby’s side. Those two really are inseparable.

Simon had thought it would calm down a bit once the honeymoon phase had ended, but it’s been almost a year since they got together and no dice. Simon’s not really mad about it— they never make him feel like a third wheel. He always feels included and like he belongs around them, which is why he loves them so much, and is so happy that they found each other.

He just can’t help but feel a little envious of them at times. It must be so easy to just find your high school sweetheart and be set for life. Meanwhile, Simon is a reclusive little hermit crab who can’t even initiate conversations, let alone flirt or try to date anyone. He just feels a little scared that he might never find the one. But he knows that’s probably the beer talking, making him think depressing thoughts. Stop it, alcohol. He forces himself to tune back into the conversation.

“All I’m saying is, college is a time for self-discovery and experimentation. If I meet a hot guy, what’s stopping me from trying out something new, you know?” Garrett rambles.

“No one, Garrett. Absolutely no one is stopping you or arguing with you. Just say you want to hook up with a dude and go,” Bram says, smiling into his drink.

“I want to hook up with a dude and go,” Garrett says, blankly, then cracks up. Leah and Abby are giggling too, cuddling even closer than before somehow.

Simon is kind of lost. He didn’t think it was just... that easy. A straight (for all he knows) dude just admitting to wanting to try to hook up with a guy, to see if he likes it. Isn’t figuring out your sexuality supposed to be this traumatic, painful experience where you doubt yourself at every turn and then have to hide it from everyone at the loss of your own self worth and self esteem? College really is... something else entirely.

Is this how it is now? Does Simon have to learn how to be a casual person, who pretends to like the taste of beer and then hooks up with whoever’s closest (Leah’s wise words)? Sue him, but he’s still a hopeless romantic. He wants true love.

“What about you, Bram?” Garrett asks. “The world is your oyster. What’s stopping you from hooking up with everyone in the world?” He nudges him.

Ugh, and they’re back to the straight shit. Simon’s ready to tune out again. “Well, first of all, the fact that I’m only attracted to about 50% of them,” Bram says, shoving him lightly.

“Fair enough. Then what can I do for you, my young padawan? Can I bring beautiful men to your doorstep like a cat proudly dropping dead mice at your feet?”

 _Men_. What? Simon’s eyes widen. Bram looks at Simon a bit nervously, like he’s scared of his reaction. He would quickly reassure him, but his brain’s still stuck on _Bram is gay, Bram is gay, Bram is gay._

Garrett notices the exchange, and moves to fix it. “Shit. Sorry, man.”

“No, it’s okay. Just... hadn’t gotten around to it,” Bram says, still looking at Simon, gauging for his response. What does he think, that Simon is gonna be some huge homophobe? He brought his lesbian and bisexual best friends with him, for God’s sake.

Simon needs to speak. Needs to clarify, before Bram starts thinking the worst and he ruins this. “Uh, me too. Me gay too.” _Huh_? He closes his eyes in embarrassment. “I am also. Gay.”

“Yeah. Got that,” Bram says, smiling now. Well, he fixed it, at least. He ignores Leah and Abby’s giggling from somewhere to his left.

“Nice! So we’re all super gay!” Garrett exclaims, raising his hands. Simon laughs. Okay, this guy is great.

“Well, that’s yet to be determined, in your case,” Bram says, finally taking his eyes off of Simon, so he can catch his damn breath.

“Is it, though? There was that sex dream about Michael B. Jordan,” Garrett says, pointing at Bram.

“Okay, but wanting to fuck Erik Killmonger is just common sense,” Bram says.

“I don’t think straight men would agree with you,” Simon interjects.

And those eyes are on him again. “Fine, you win. We’re all super gay.” He sits back and sips more of his beer.

Garrett whoops.

 

At the end of the night, Simon and Bram walk Leah and Abby back to their dorm, making sure they’re safe before going back to their own room. Simon’s proud of himself for only getting a little tipsy, so he’s barely stumbling or being embarrassing. Still doing a little of both, though.

Bram is definitely drunker than him, but he defies most stereotypes of drunkness. He still seems mostly put together. He just seems a little... looser than normal. Well, Simon doesn’t exactly have a standard for “normal” for Bram yet, since they barely know each other, but this drunk Bram is different from the one’s he’s gotten to know over the past week in one notable way. Namely, the way he keeps sending Simon suggestive smirks and winks. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous and say he’s flirting, but... But.

Bram is gay. He’s into men. He could possibly be into Simon. Simon is very scared. He’s not very experienced. Bram is fucking hot; there’s no way he hasn’t had every experience ten times over with people so out of Simon’s league they’re playing a different sport. He’s trying to work on his issues of feeling inadequate, but it’s hard, okay? It’s hard to believe someone this great could ever like him. It’s intimidating. And he’s a coward.

So when they reach the room, Simon quickly changes into something more comfortable and buries himself under his own sheets to hide from the world. He eventually hears Bram say, very quietly, “Good night, Simon,” before going to sleep himself.

 

Simon is having a really shitty day.

Maybe shitty is a bit dramatic, but it’s like he walked under a ladder or spilled salt recently, because every possible inconvenience that could happen has happened.

First of all, he had to make his usual trek across campus to his first class, which usually isn’t a problem, but it started raining. Out of nowhere. And it goes without saying, he didn’t bring his umbrella, because there was no damn forecast of rain. But he couldn’t wait it out and risk being late to class, because he was having his first exam.

Speaking of his first exam for Bio, he forgot a pencil. You know, like a dumbass who’s never been in a classroom before. He had to ask _five different people_  until someone had a pencil. At that point he thinks people were just denying him a pencil on principle, because they didn’t like his face or something. There’s no way that many people had exactly one pencil.

But enough about pencils, here’s the real damn kicker: _he studied the wrong material_. He thought the exam was on chapters 1, 2, and 3, because he can at least count. So those are the chapters on which he studied his ass off. Turns out the exam was on chapters 2, 4, and 5, because the professor doesn’t _agree_ with the textbook’s ordering of the chapters. Can they just fucking do that? So at least Simon knew about 30% of the material that was on the exam. College might be a clusterfuck of new challenges and experiences, but there’s one thing he knows to still be true here: a 30% is a failing grade.

Simon is currently this strange combination of furious and depressed, to the point where he might start crying tears of rage, as soon as he gets to the safety of his room. Bram should be there now, but he’s sure he’ll understand that a dude needs a good cry every once in a while. Especially as a college student.

When he’s finally walking down the hallway to his room, he thinks he might sob with relief. He starts doing a weird half-jog, finally arrives to the door, and...

There’s a sock on the doorknob. An honest to god _sock_. Like in the movies.

Simon almost kicks the door in frustration. Of course, on this miserable day, he can’t even cry in his own room and then nap for three hours, because Bram is in there having sex with someone. Lovely. Wonderful. Well, you don’t need to tell Simon twice.

He texts Leah and Abby to tell them he’s coming over, and stomps across campus in a huff. They let him cry on their shoulders and take a 30 minute nap. He’s never been more grateful to know them.

 

Simon feels much better after his nap and a pep talk from his best friends. He starts walking back towards his room, and his mood dips again when he remembers why he had avoided it in the first place.

Bram’s lay better be gone by now, because he has no time for this shit. He has a discussion post due tonight.

He’s relieved to find no sock on the doorknob when he gets there. He enters and finds Bram sitting on his desk chair, reading a book. The spitting image of, “I’m trying really hard to look nonchalant right now.”

What is the etiquette here? Bram doesn’t have to know he ever passed by the room if he doesn’t mention it. But maybe he’s curious. Maybe he wants to know who it was. If Bram is dating someone now. God, just knowing he was having sex with someone else in their room is bad enough, but if he has to endure Bram getting dressed for dates? Gushing about his boyfriend? Maybe even introducing him to the group so everyone knows it’s serious? This is going to be torture.

Forget it, Simon just won’t say anything.

“So... hot date?” slips out anyway. What the _fuck_.

Bram turns his head sharply to Simon. “What?”

“Uh... nothing, I just. Passed by earlier, and there was a sock on the door. Doesn’t take a genius to know what that means.”

“Oh.” And he thinks Bram might be blushing. Like he’s shy. Caught in the act. “Sorry. If you needed something in here.”

“No worries,” Simon lies, like he hadn’t been on the verge of a mental breakdown. “So, who was it?” And wow, it’s like he just can’t shut up. Mind your damn business, Spier.

“Oh, no, it wasn’t...” Simon wishes Bram didn’t look so cute when he’s trying to find his words.

“Keeping it casual? Sure, man, I get it,” Simon says, sitting at his own desk and opening his laptop, hoping to escape this conversational black hole that he himself created.

“No, I mean...” Bram trails off, so Simon spins to face him again. He’s looking at the floor. “It wasn’t. There was. No one here.”

“Then why did you... Oh.” _Oh_. “Oh.” And now Simon’s blushing, too. There’s a horrible prolonged moment of painfully awkward silence. “Well, good thing you put that sock on there.”

They stare at each other for a moment longer. And then they’re both laughing hysterically. For several minutes. It starts getting painful, but every time they catch their breath and look at each other, it starts all over again.

Simon wipes tears from his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Leave me alone,” Bram says, painful grin giving away his insincerity.

“Just— you really put a sock on the doorknob so you could choke the chicken.”

“Oh my god, don’t say it like that.”

“What? We’re all adults here, Bram, we can talk about this.”

“Not like _that_.”

“What would you prefer? Spanking the monkey? Beating the meat? Wrestling the eel?”

“Please stop. How do you know so many of these?” Bram asks, wiping at his eyes again.

“Jacking the beanstalk. The five finger shuffle. Just stop me whenever.” Simon’s inner 14 year old humor might be showing, but he can’t help himself.

“Uh... masturbation?”

“Ugh. Too clinical. Sounds like my mom.”

“Okay, we are _not_  talking about your mom and my dick in the same sentence.”

“Who the hell was talking about your dick, Abraham? Don’t be so vulgar, geez.”

Bram is laughing again, clutching his stomach. “You’re horrible.”

“You know what, this is actually great. This is a rite of passage. It allows us to enter a new stage in our friendship, one untethered by personal boundaries.”

“Okay, but you owe me an embarrassing experience.”

“Well, I sure as shit hope I never pay you back. There’s one debt I’d love to keep forever,” Simon says, turning in his chair back to his laptop. “Hope it was worth it, Bramathan.”

Bram snorts cutely and turns back to his book, letting the name slide.

When the comedy of the moment fades, Simon has to try really hard not to think about exactly what Bram was doing in here.

 

[MISSING SCENE]

 

Simon blinks sleep out of his eyes and finds himself in a bed that’s not his own. It’s pretty close to his, though.

His limbs are thrown over Bram and his head was definitely buried in Bram’s neck, so. That’s something to process.

The events of last night flood back into his mind. Bram is starting to stir, too.

“Oh, no,” Simon mumbles. And Bram looks panicked. Tense. Like he’s scared for Simon’s reaction? “Not at us hooking up,” he feels the need to clarify. “That was great and I’d love a repeat sometime. Just... noticing I’m in a bit of a... Sticky situation.” The ‘ _hint, hint, nudge, nudge_ ’ is implied.

Bram laughs nervously, though it’s more of just an exhale. “Same here.”

“To the sticky situation or to wanting to do this again sometime?” Simon has to ask. He’s just tired enough that he has no filter.

A lazy smile. “Both.” And then Bram’s eyes are flicking down to his lips, and he kisses him. It tastes terrible, but neither of them are complaining.

It’s just starting to get interesting, and Bram’s hands trail down to grab Simon’s ass, and Simon has to back away. “Nope. Not right now, Bramothy. I feel disgusting. Need a shower.” He rolls out of Bram’s bed and waddles over to get his shower kit.

When he turns back to Bram, he’s still laying there, hands suspended in the air. “Bramothy?”

Simon grabs his towel, and some clothes. “Yep.”

“Can I join you?” Bram asks suggestively, smirking when Simon turns to glare at him.

“Gay request denied.” Bram pouts. “Get to class, Brambert.”

“Now that one’s just insulting,” Bram says, finally getting up. “Oh. Gross.” He presumably is now feeling what Simon is feeling. Sticky situation.

“See?”

Bram just stands there and looks at Simon, smiling. Looking too damn pleased with himself. If this is what he’s like after he gets what he wants? Simon either wants to never do it again, or give him what he wants every hour for the rest of his life. Jury’s still out, though.

Then Bram runs up to him and steals a kiss before ducking away. “Go on, then.”

Simon’s leaning towards the latter.

 

It doesn’t hit Simon until he’s sitting in philosophy class blatantly not paying attention that he doesn’t know what this means.

The hopeless romantic in him wants to say that this means he and Bram are boyfriends, but from what little he’s learned about both gay culture and college hookup culture, he’s thinking otherwise. This is college. The rules are different here, he thinks. People are casual and they have sex and have it not mean anything. Leah told Simon once that she’s not a casual person, and Simon feels that way too. But what if Bram doesn’t?

What if Bram has already forgotten about what they did, is already planning on hooking up with someone else tonight or tomorrow or next week? What happened between them is all Simon can think about, but he’s a loser and an idealist. And he’s not gonna pretend he’s enough of a catch to stay imprinted on the mind of a hot, charming soccer player who could close his eyes and point to anyone in a crowded room and have them want to suck his dick.

It’s depressing, really. Because as much as Simon knows he’ll have very vivid sex dreams about Bram’s hands and breathy whimpers for months, he also knows he’ll continue to blush whenever Bram smiles or laughs, continue to listen intently to all his stories, continue to care about his wellbeing or how his day went. This is something more than an infatuation. He doesn’t know exactly what it is yet, but he knows that. And he knows he doesn’t want casual, but he’ll take whatever he can get just to keep Bram in his life, in whatever way he wants.

 

Bram looks mischievous. Simon doesn’t trust that look, because he’s starting to understand what it means.

Simon’s just sitting on his bed, back against the wall, laptop on his lap, trying to get a head-start on some homework. Usually his plan for completing assignments is remembering that they’re due on the day they’re due, and cramming hard until he finally hits submit at 11:58PM. But he’s trying something new: being a good student. He doesn’t know how he feels about it yet.

This paper is due tomorrow night instead of tonight. That’s progress, right?

But when Bram finishes whatever he was doing on his own laptop and starts slithering over to Simon like a snake, he gets very suspicious.

Bram climbs onto Simon’s bed and sits next to him, still looking at him. Simon raises an eyebrow but otherwise pointedly ignores him, continuing to type.

“Simon,” he pokes.

“Yes, Bram?”

“You having fun?”

“Fun writing a paper on existentialism? Not really,” Simon says, still not biting.

“Would it help if...” Bram puts a hand on Simon’s thigh, and he inhales sharply, but doesn’t react otherwise.

“If what, Bram? You should really finish your sentences.”

“If I did something for you,” Bram says, not just suggestively but more like practically yelling and banging pots and pans.

“Did something? Are you offering to do my laundry, because that’d really help me.”

Bram laughs. “Si...”

“Speak plainly, Abraham. If you wish to perform fellatio on me, simply say so.”

“Simon.” He tilts his head. His sweet smile juxtaposes the vulgarity of his next words. “I want to suck your dick.”

Simon clears his throat. “Well, then.” He hits save on his Word document, closes his laptop, and reaches over to set it safely down on his desk.

By the time he sits up straight again, Bram is pouncing on him. Well, more like delicately moving to straddle him, kissing him, smiling at him, and then undoing his pants. Close enough.

 

“Turn the fuck around. I’m spooning you.”

Bram laughs. It’s an angelic sound.

**Author's Note:**

> walkfire.tumblr.com


End file.
